


In an Unexpected Twist of Events

by orphan_account



Series: Yeah I Wrote Something: Tumblr Fics [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Businessman Castiel, Happy Ending, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, No Smut, Separations, Teacher Dean, almost divorce, but then not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:34:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd always heard people talk about how they'd expected it, how it hadn't been a surprise when it had finally happened. But this was a surprise, and Dean hadn't expected this <i>at all</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In an Unexpected Twist of Events

The envelope arrived on a Tuesday. Dean usually didn't even check his mailbox in the teachers' break room throughout the day, but he did that day. He immediately wished he hadn't. 

He stood in the middle of his bright, colorful classroom and stared down at the documents in his hands, tears brimming in his eyes as his mind struggled and failed to comprehend what they meant. He'd always heard people talk about how they'd expected it, how it hadn't been a surprise when it had finally happened. But this was a surprise, and Dean hadn't expected this _at all_. 

Dean was still frozen there when the bell shrilled, signaling the end of the lunch period. The sound jarred Dean into action, and he stuffed the papers and their unimposing manila envelope into his top desk drawer. He forced the tears back and plastered a wide smile onto his face, preparing himself for when the hall monitor delivered his students back to his classroom for the second half of the day. 

He tried to make sure that he did nothing different. He greeted each student with a high-five or a fist bump as they walked into the room, asked a few of them how their lunch was, checked on Mary Jane's paper cut from that morning. He didn't let the smile slip off of his face for a single moment, because he knew if he did, he'd be done for. 

So instead of sobbing his pain out like he wanted so badly to do, he grinned and taught thirty-one eight-year-olds about fractions. 

He didn't let himself think about the papers in his desk. 

\---------------------

"Did you send them?" Cas asked Bela after the weekly board meeting on Tuesday afternoon. 

"Yes, I had Kevin drop the envelope off at the school," she replied without looking up from her phone. "And Benny just left your house with your stuff." 

Cas stopped walking. His eyes narrowed into slits as he asked, "You sent them to the school?"

"Yes. That's where he was scheduled to be all day, so I sent them there," she said this matter-of-factly, like it should have been obvious. 

Shit. Hopefully Dean hadn't seen them until the end of the day; Cas couldn't even imagine how hard it would have been to keep teaching after receiving those papers. And he knew Dean would have kept on, because that's what Dean did. He soldiered through, no matter what the personal cost to him. 

"Maybe I should call him..." Cas murmured. He needed to make sure that Dean was okay, that he wasn't drinking again. Dean hadn't touched alcohol in years, not since he'd given the stuff up during their senior year of college, but something like this...

"I don't think he wants to hear from you right now, Castiel," Michael said as he walked up. He shook his head. "It would be best if you didn't contact him at all." 

"Best for who?" Cas wondered glumly. 

"For you, for him...for us," Michael responded. Cas looked away, suddenly unable to look at his older brother. He knew that Michael was thrilled with this decision; he'd never liked Dean and Cas to begin with, not since Dean had turned Michael down in favor of Cas. Knowing Michael and his inflated ego, he probably viewed this as just desserts for that tiny slight years ago. 

Cas sighed and glanced at his phone. Nothing. It used to be that he would have a text waiting for him, usually a little pick me up as simple as _Love you_ or _Hope your meeting went okay_. Now he wouldn't have those anymore, and he felt his heart wrench at the thought. 

"This is for the best," Michael reminded him flatly. "Dean needs someone who can actually be there for him, who's not constantly running off on business. I mean, dad used to do that shit to us and look how him and mom turned out." 

Cas nodded but didn't say anything. He remembered vividly the bitter divorce that, after years of unresolved feelings and abandonment and betrayal, had ripped their family to shreds. He knew that he didn't want to do that to Dean; Dean didn't deserve that. But there was a small part of his brain that rebelled, that argued that he and Dean would never reach that point.

But there was another part of him, the quiet voice in the back of his mind, that reasoned that they would reach that point; it was inevitable. Michael was right. He needed to let Dean go before it came to that.

\------------------

Dean stared down at the tumbler of whiskey in his hand, his vision blurring with tears as he studied the way the light reflected off the amber liquid. He brought the tumbler to his lips, then froze. He'd tried this before, and it hadn't worked. It hadn't worked then, and it wouldn't work now. 

Cas had taught him that, had showed him a better way. For Cas's sake, he wouldn't start again now. 

He set the tumbler back down on the counter with a defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping as fresh sobs wracked his frame. It felt so empty in the house. Cas's stuff had been cleared out of the bedroom by the time Dean came home from work. 

Dean could understand why Cas hadn't wanted to see him, why he'd done it this way. Before Cas had shown up, had shown him differently, there had been days when Dean hadn't wanted to see himself either. He would avoid looking in the mirror at all costs because he hated the man in it so much.

With Cas's help, Dean had finally managed to get over that. He'd started doing what he wanted to do instead of what John wanted him to do. He'd ended up with, of all things, a teaching degree. He'd immediately taken to teaching second grade; he loved the kids, and they loved him. He knew he could spend the rest of his life doing this. 

Dean let out a choked laugh. He'd once thought that he'd spend the rest of his life with Cas. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Maybe Cas had wanted more than a second-grade teacher, someone who would do bigger and better things with his life. Dean couldn't fault him for that; Cas deserved someone like that. 

Dean drew a deep shuddering breath and shook his head to clear it. Yes, he was a better person now. But underneath, he was still the same. Underneath, he could feel that urge to call Cas and demand that he explain himself. He could feel the anger simmer and the jealousy burn. He wanted to refuse to sign the papers, to refuse to let this go. But he wouldn't. For Cas's sake, he needed to remain civil. 

\----------------

"Cas's lawyer contacted me today about the asset mediation meetings," Sam said as he took another bite of his salad. Dean tensed up but didn't say anything otherwise.

It had been six months since he'd received the papers. He hadn't started drinking again, which he was proud of, but he hadn't done much else either. His entire life had stalled. 

He still went to work and plastered on his brightest smile and taught his kids. He still went over to mom and dad's house for dinner every Sunday. He still went to Sam and Jess's apartment for football. He still paid his bills. But they were all motions, nothing more. They were just practiced motions he went through on an hourly, daily, weekly, monthly basis. 

The only real change had been moving out of the house. He'd finally gotten an apartment, unable to live in a place haunted with so many happy memories. He didn't know what Cas had done to it, whether he had sold it or moved back in. He didn't call to ask. He couldn't call. 

Sometimes Dean wondered if life would ever move again, if it would ever make sense.

"Did you hear me?" Sam asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Tell her it's not necessary. He can have everything." 

"What?" Sam barked, his eyes widening. Dean didn't respond, instead choosing to take another bite of his burger. "Dean, you can't do that," Sam hissed. 

"Why? It's my stuff, I can do what I want with it." 

"You're clearly not thinking straight. Just...think about what you want from this," Sam reasoned. "I mean, you deserve that much! We can fight for–"

"I want my husband!" Dean cried, frustrated. It was so sudden and broken that Sam cut off, shocked. That had been the first real emotion Dean had shown since that day. Dean looked away, tears brimming. "I want my husband back." 

Sam dropped the subject. 

\-------------------

Dean may have been perfectly content to leave Cas everything, but Cas wasn't. 

"He what!?" He asked Bela when she told him about Sam's call. 

"He said he doesn't want to mediate. He's giving you everything," she explained. 

"That's unacceptable," Cas bit out. "Call him back and tell him that we _are_ having the meeting." 

"Sir..." Bela murmured, but Cas shook his head. 

"Call him, Bela! I'll be damned if he thinks I'm really going to leave him with nothing! What the hell kind of husband does he take me to be?" Cas muttered to her retreating back. He stopped and let out a heavy sigh. 

Dean was taking him to be the exact kind of husband he was: the kind who sent the papers through a courier to his workplace, the kind who didn't call once to make sure he was okay. To be fair, Dean hadn't called either. Cas didn't know whether to be grateful or angry about that. 

He knew that if Dean called, he'd drop everything. He'd move back into their house in a heartbeat if Dean asked him to. He'd spend the rest of his life making this up to his husband. But Dean hadn't called. If he really hadn't wanted this, he would've called, right? 

Bela returned five minutes later. "We've set up a time for this Friday afternoon at 3." 

"Thank you," Cas said, and Bela nodded before leaving again. 

Cas dropped his head into his hands and let out a sigh. He tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up at just the thought of seeing Dean after so long. His stomach flipped as he thought about Dean actually being in the same room with him after moths apart. He couldn't tell if it was from excitement or dread. 

\--------------------

That Friday, Dean looked over his desk, double-checking to make sure that he had set everything out for the substitute who would be taking his class for the afternoon. He shuffled some papers around, added a couple last-minute notes here and there. 

He knew he was distracting himself, trying to keep himself from worrying over the meeting that afternoon. He had to prepare himself eventually, but he wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for any of it. 

He knew the meeting would be pointless. He already told Sam that he wasn't taking anything, he'd leave it all to Cas. But if Cas needed to hear that from him in person, so be it. 

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up. 

"You must be the sub," he said as the red-headed young woman strode into the room. 

"That would be me! I'm Charlie Bradbury," she introduced as she extended her hand. 

"I'm Dean. Pleasure to meet you," he replied, shaking her hand. He gestured toward the materials on the desk. "So for this afternoon, you have a pretty basic schedule. Math right after lunch, then history, then science, then second recess, then you finish up the day with art." 

"Ooh, I love plant reproduction!" Charlie enthused as she looked over the science lesson plan. Dean nodded. 

"Right, now for history, I have marked on here for–" he was interrupted by his phone buzzing. He glanced down, expecting to see Sam's name. His eyes widened for a split second at the name he saw instead.

"Excuse me, I have to take this," he murmured to Charlie as he swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the call. He lifted the phone up to his ear. "Mom?" 

\-------------------

Cas and Bela had been waiting in the small conference room for almost ten minutes. Cas kept glancing at the wall clock, his eyebrows furrowing with each tick of the second hand. Dean was never late for anything.

Bela had just let out another gusty sigh when the door swung open and a short man in all black strode in. 

"Sorry about the wait," he said in a clipped British accent. "Traffic on the interstate was hell." 

Both Bela and Cas stood to their feet, obviously trying to figure out who this man was and why he was here. 

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong conference room..." Cas began, but the man shook his head.

"You are Castiel Novak-Winchester, are you not?" He confirmed, and Cas was left to nod dumbly. 

The man settled down into the chair across from them and began pulling papers out of his briefcase as he spoke. "Name's Crowley. I work for the same firm as Sam. Actually, to be more accurate, I own the firm where Sam works."

"Where is Dean?" Cas asked cautiously. "And Sam?" He added as an afterthought.

"Family emergency," Crowley stated simply. "Now, about your settlements..." 

"What family emergency?" Cas cut in. 

Crowley sighed and rolled his eyes. "One dealing with the _family_ ," he stated pointedly. Cas felt like he'd been slapped; he was Dean's family. Or he had been, once upon a time. He'd been his closest family. 

"Dean refuses to take anything..." Crowley was saying. 

"No," Cas suddenly decided. "No. I need to hear that from him." Maybe if he could talk to Dean, he could reason some sense into him. 

"I'll see if I can get a hold of him," Crowley sighed. 

\-----------------

Dean had just bought his third granola bar of the afternoon when his phone rang. He pulled it out to see Crowley's name on the screen. He felt his stomach drop. That had been quick...

"Hey," he greeted. "How did it go?" 

"It didn't," the other man replied. "He wants to talk to you." 

Dean's stomach flipped. What the hell? 

"Are you willing to talk to him?" Crowley asked, and from his tone, Dean could tell that he was still in the room with Cas and Bela. 

"Yeah, I guess," Dean relented. 

"Okay, I'm going to put you on speaker phone," Crowley warned. Dean heard the line go fuzzy. "Go ahead, Dean." 

"Cas," he greeted. 

"Dean," his husband replied. "Is everything okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned, worried even. Dean shoved the thought from his mind; examining that thought would just hurt more later. 

"Peachy," he replied. "What can I do for you?" 

"Dean, you can't be serious about this," Cas chided. "You have to take something." 

"No."

"Dean–" 

"Look, Cas, I don't want your money, okay? I don't want the house or the cars or any of that shit. I want–" he barely cut himself off before saying the pathetic words. The annoying speaker blared overhead with an announcement, adding to the hammering headache in the back of his head. He drew a deep steadying breath. "I'll be fine." 

He glanced down the hall to find that Dr. Junkins had stepped out into the hall to talk to Sam and Jess and Mary. Sam motioned for him to come back, and Dean started walking back toward them. 

"I'm not going to–" Cas began, but Dean cut him off again. 

"Babe, I don't have time for this argument right now, okay? Just sign the damn paperwork." It wasn't until after he'd spoken that he realized what he'd called Cas.

"Dean!" Cas protested. "I'm not going to sign the paperwork until you agree to–" 

"God, it's like you're determined to make me actually want this!" Dean suddenly burst out, startling a passing nurse. "What you have right there is my final offer. If you really want this so badly, then sign the damn paperwork as it stands. I'm not budging." 

He lowered the phone from his ear when he reached his family and the doctor. "Sorry about that," 

"Mr. Winchester," the doctor greeted. 

"Yes," Dean said. 

\----------------

Cas stared at the phone in the middle of the table, his eyes wide as his mind replayed those last sentences again and again. 

_You're determined to make me want this._

_If you really want this so badly..._

It almost sounded like...Dean didn't want this. It sounded like he hated this whole thing as much as Cas did... But then why hadn't he said anything? 

_Because he's trying to give you what you want, just like you're trying to give him what he wants, Dumbass._

Dean couldn't know that Cas hated this whole process, that he'd only been forcing himself to do what he thought was right. 

And then he thought about that last little bit before Crowley had ended the call. The person had called Dean Mr. Winchester, which wasn't unusual in itself. What was unusual was that Dean hadn't corrected them, whoever they were. 

For years it had always been the same. 

_"Mr. Winchester..."_

_"Actually, it's Novak-Winchester."_

But now, Dean hadn't corrected this man. And Cas felt it clear down in his stomach, the blow that was. Dean had always been proud to be labeled as his husband, always. Now, the thought that he wasn't wearing that label anymore... 

Then another, more pressing thought emerged. His mind focused on the background noise of the call, specifically on one sentence. 

_"Paging Dr. Wilkins to the ER."_

He looked up at Crowley, his face pale. "Why the hell is my husband at the hospital?" 

"Ex-husband," Bela reminded. 

Cas shot her a glare as he pushed the unsigned papers away. "Not yet, he isn't." 

\-------------------

Dean stood by the windows in his father's hospital room, staring out over the green lawn below. Everything looked so neat and put together, so very opposite from his life right now.

He glanced back toward the bed where John lay, still unconscious, hooked to a multitude of machines. He smiled softly at Mary, and she offered a watery smile in return. He felt his throat tighten up as his eyes landed on Mary and John's joined hands, the diamond in his mother's wedding band flashing at him even in the dim hospital lighting. 

Dean's thumb unconsciously ran over the gold band on his fourth finger, the metal familiar under his touch. He'd stopped wearing his ring months before, instead keeping it on a long chain around his neck. But today, with dad's sudden surgery and all of the other shit that hit the fan, Dean had needed it. 

Actually, he'd needed to have Cas here with him, but since he couldn't have him, he'd settled for his wedding ring, poor substitute that it was. 

He brought his hand up to study the ring, his numb mind refusing to comprehend that it held no more actual value. By this point, Cas had surely signed the papers, and Dean was a single, unmarried man.

Suddenly, the ring that had comforted him moments before seemed to mock him instead. It reminded him that he'd failed at loving the one person he'd sworn to love for eternity. He'd fucked up. 

He started to tug at the ring, determined to hide it away again. Out of sight, out of mind. He'd just started to work it off when someone came rushing into the room. 

Dean's eyes widened as he took in the dark wavy hair, more mussed and wind blown than usual, the bright blue eyes, anxious and wary, the sharp jawline. Everything was just as Dean remembered it, and somehow better because he'd been deprived of him for months, but somehow worse because Dean knew that he wasn't his anymore.

"Cas?" He whispered, his voice suddenly gone. Cas was breathing heavily, like he'd run there. 

"Sorry!" Cas gasped out, his eyes wide and anxious. "I know you probably don't want to see me right now, I get that. But I had to make sure..." He took a deep breath, "I had to make sure that you were okay." 

"I'm fine," Dean automatically answered.

Cas looked like he was about to argue, just like he'd always done when Dean had given that answer before, but then he seemed to remember that it wasn't his place. He took a deep breath and looked at Mary instead. 

"Hi, Mary," he greeted. "Sorry to barge in..." 

"It's fine," she assured him with a smile.

"How is he?" He asked, gesturing toward John. 

"Solid as a rock, like always," she replied. "Doctor says he'll pull through just fine."

"Good, that's good..." Cas stated, somewhat inanely. 

A heavy silence fell over the group, broken only by the occasional whirring of John's machines. Dean felt something withering inside him as he watched Cas glance around restlessly. He obviously wanted to leave, but was too nice to say so. Dean had thought, when Cas had first come through the door, that maybe... 

But he'd obviously been wrong. Cas had just been worried about John and Mary, because that was the kind of person Cas was. He cared about others. Now that he'd checked, he'd probably be leaving again, disappearing from Dean's life for good. 

Dean unconsciously reached down to toy with his ring, more out of nervous habit than anything else. It was such a small action, minuscule really, but Cas still caught it. His eyes narrowed on where Dean's fingers twisted the gold metal. 

"You're still wearing it?" He asked. 

Dean immediately froze, his entire body stiffening. Shit. 

"Yeah, uh, sorry bout that," Dean said. "You'll probably... want it back... or something..." He started to tug again at the band. 

"Don't!"

Dean jumped and glanced up to find Cas striding across the room toward him, his eyes purposeful. 

"Cas?" He faltered.

Cas stopped in front of him and covered Dean's left hand with his own, his silver ring pressing against the warm skin of Dean's hand. 

"Don't, please," Cas pleaded. "Don't ever..." He trailed off and drew in a shaky breath. He looked scared but still somehow determined, determined to keep Dean's ring on. 

Dean suddenly had to know, he had to know if Cas was here for John and Mary or for him. 

"Why are you here?" Dean asked, his voice tremulous. "Are you... I mean..." 

Cas looked confused for a moment; he'd thought that he'd made that perfectly clear. But of course Dean wouldn't understand his half-assed attempt to make things right. He needed to spell it out explicitly. 

"I'm here for you, Dean," Cas murmured. "I'm here to take care of my husband." 

"Not..." Dean drew a deep breath. "Not ex-husband?" He held his breath as he waited for Cas's answer.

"No," Cas responded firmly. "Not now, not ever." 

"What changed your mind?" Dean wondered, but his fingers were already wrapping around Cas's, like they didn't really care what the answer was.

"I..." Cas cleared his throat and looked down, a bright blush staining his cheekbones. "I had myself convinced that this life, my job, would hurt us, hurt you, like it did my parents. Their divorce was...you know." 

Dean nodded. It had taken a long time for Cas to trust Dean enough to tell him about his parents, and Dean knew how much it still hurt him. Dean brought a hand up to cup his jaw, his eyes tender.

"Cas, I get it, I do. But we're not them. We're _us_. I'm...I'm crazy about you, and I'll do anything, _anything_ , to make us work." 

"I know," Cas said. "That's what changed my mind." 

Dean glanced down at their hands. "Look, I know I might not be much, but I know how to make you happy, and–"

Cas suddenly surged forward to press his mouth to Dean's, cutting off his self-deprecating words. Dean seemed shocked for half a second, but then his arms were wrapping around Cas. He pulled his husband tighter against him, nearly sobbing with the overwhelming sensations after months of separation. 

Cas's hands clenched into fists around his collar, tightening as he pressed upward. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, and Dean moaned with relief.

When their mouths finally separated, Cas's hands slid up around his neck, angling his head down to rest their foreheads together. He shook his head, a small, sad smile on his face. "You are the best man I have ever met. You give so much of yourself to me, to your family, to your students. You deserve so much." 

"All I ever wanted was you," Dean admitted hoarsely. "I don't care what I deserve, as long as I get to keep you." 

"You have me," Cas promised. "Now, for ever. I'm never leaving. You're stuck with me." 

Dean smirked. "I feel like it's you who's stuck with me." 

Cas sighed wearily and shrugged. "I guess we'll just be stuck with each other. We'll be that cranky old couple sitting on our rockers and yelling at the kids." 

"Whose kids? Our kids?" Dean wondered. 

"Well, if we're grumpy, old men, I'd hope they'd at least be our grandkids," Cas reasoned, and Dean grinned. 

"I'd like that," he whispered. He smiled shyly, "I'm so glad you're here. I, uh, I really wanted you to be here, but..." He trailed off with a shrug. 

"I'm here now, and I'm never leaving you, ever again," Cas promised as he leaned in for another kiss. 

They were still kissing when Sam strode in several minutes later, two greasy paper bags in hand. "I got you extra bacon–" he cut off when he saw Cas and Dean. He stopped walking, causing Jess to bump into him from behind. He looked to Mary, who was dabbing at her eyes and smiling widely. 

Jess peered around him and let out a startled giggle. "Holy shit! Way to go, Dean and Cas!" 

Dean broke apart from his husband's mouth reluctantly. He kept his arms wrapped around Cas as he turned to her with an unrepentant grin. 

"Guys, you remember my husband, Cas," he introduced. 

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hey, Cas. Good to see you again." 

"Same. Uh, I missed...you all," Cas offered with a shy smile. 

Jess smirked and glanced at where his hands curled into Dean's shirt. 

"Sure, it was _us_ that you missed." 

Cas blushed a flaming red as Dean burst out into laughter, but Cas found that he couldn't begrudge any of them when he saw the wide smile that settled across Dean's face.


End file.
